Losing my job felt less like an ending

Dear Delyara, It wasn’t only income. That is the part people say first because it is easier to understand. But what broke in me when I was pushed out of work was larger than the payslip. It was structure. Identity. Pride. Competence. Adult rhythm. Proof that I could still function in a world that often feels built to reduce women slowly until they stop taking up emotional space. When I was let go, everyone around me spoke the language of practicality — update the CV, apply elsewhere, something better will come, don’t take it personally. But I did take it personally. Because it was personal. Not just the loss itself. The way it happened. The tone. The humiliation. The knowledge that people went home that evening and ate dinner while I sat in my car feeling like a whole version of me had been removed from my life without the dignity of proper mourning. I am still carrying that. Not because I am weak. Because work had become one of the few places where I still recognised certain strengths in myself, and losing it made me question much more than employment.